Self Satisfaction
by ursweetheartless
Summary: Edward is alone in his hotel room, thinking about his commanding officer and how much he ... uh ... hates him, yeah thats it...Msolo, Yaoi, One Sided RoyxEd one shot, i think


Edward Elric slumped into the cold hotel room, just glad to be inside. He'd been on a mission to central headquarters all day, accompanying Mustang and sitting in on some stupid meetings that the colonel had hinted might give him some insight into his quest for the philosophers stone. They might have, if he had been able to pay attention, but he they had been so intensely boring that it had been a fight to stay attentive, or at least look like he was. He sighed and threw his red coat down onto the chair next to the bed, followed by the black jacket he always wore underneath. He had spent the whole day fighting to stay awake, so he had no idea why he was so tired, he hadn't _done_ anything.

It was cold outside though, an early winter wind whipping around the city, cutting right through his coat. The only thing he was interested in at the moment was taking a shower and crawling into bed, maybe ordering something to eat from the room service card. The military was paying for all of this after all, he could have whatever he wanted brought up. The thought made him smile, especially when he thought of Mustang having to fill out the inevitable paperwork for it. It may not have been much, but he got what pleasure he could out of the little things in his life, and every little thing he could do to make his commanding officer miserable was a good thing.

He sighed as he flopped onto the bed briefly, trying desperately to anchor his thoughts onto something else then, but quickly gave up as everything lead him back to one thing in the end anyways. At least now he was alone, he could think about it in at least the semblance of peace. His brother had stayed in the east to research a possible lead on the stone there, so he was alone in this strange hotel room. He gave up even trying to ignore the face creeping into the back of his thoughts, the voice like honey, the laugh like thunder, the eyes like midnight, the pale skin and insufferable smirk. It made him want to curse the man even more, but he knew that now, in this opportune solitude, he didn't really need to.

He walked to the bathroom, and waited until the water he was running in the shower was warm before he pulled off the black undershirt first, before peeling the leather pants down his legs. He could feel himself half hard already, and took the moment to run his fingers lightly across the bulge there, closing his eyes to savour the sensation. It wasn't often that he let himself do this, with his brother constantly around, never sleeping, never breathing, and never able to do this himself. It made Edward guilty, trying to take care of himself silently in the shower, holding his breath and listening for any sound of his brother nearing. Here though, he could let the soft sounds fall from his lips, and he did moan now, quiet and sensuous, the sound as muted as the feeling now.

He finally peeled the cotton briefs down and tossed them to the floor, climbing into the hot wet stream of the shower. The water felt wonderful on his skin, as tired as he was, and he took a moment at first to just let the water wash over him. He closed his eyes then, and set his back to the wall, trailing his flesh hand down his own chest in twirling patterns, letting the automail warm under the flowing water. He hissed as he thumbed the nubs of his nipples to erectness, mind fixating on the smirking face that he couldn't ignore any longer. The man had been skirting the outsides of every conversation he'd had all day, and even in his absence he had still touched everything the boy had done. It had annoyed him all day, each mention making him a little bit more nervous, every sidelong glance making him a little bit hard. It had been exhausting really, trying to focus on everything else. Now he let the flesh hand trail down his stomach, across the taught muscles, to comb the curly hair that lay below, and trace patterns along the base of his now fully erect organ. He gasped slightly, always the vocal one when he had a chance. It made it even harder to take care of these now frequent "problems" when he was with Al, often resorting to shoving his fist into his mouth.

But now he let out an unmuffled moan when he took hold of his own hardness, rapping his fingers tightly around it, imagining his fist was the hand of someone else, whose face was burned into his mind, behind his eyes. He started into a slow rhythm, and in his mind he could see his commanding officer's face, leaning in and smirking smugly as the boy practically purred. He saw, in his mind, the man's hand moving languidly, as he savored every small movement and feeling. He knew the man would whisper things into his ear, anything he wanted to hear. He could almost feel the whisper of hot breath on the shell of his ear and it made him moan quietly. The hand on him quickened along with his pulse, groaning slightly. He pressed his side to the tile then, the now warm automail fingers were brought to the soap, dancing around the bar on the hotel shelf, sudsing itself pretty well before the boy brought it around behind him, circling his entrance, seeing Mustang smirk as he pushed it inside, past the tensing ring of muscle. He moaned again then, the sound this time eerily similar to a certain name. In his head he could hear himself moan wantonly, much to the Colonel's delight. In his head the man smiled slyly, timing the thrust of the fingers with the rhythm of his fist. The man hooked his fingers inside, sliding and searching until he brushed that certain little bundle of nerves and everything faded quickly from the boy's mind but the image of Roy smiling sweetly, pressing him back a bit, keeping him from falling over. Ed's knees were getting weak, so he leaned harder into the cool tile wall of the shower.

This shifted the fingers massaging him on the inside, making him gasp something with a more definite name inside of it. HIs hand quickened his pace to match the man inside his head, running the pas of his flesh thumb across the now weeping tip, spreading the pre-come around, only feel it washed away almost immediately by the flow of water. He was close now, very close, and he could hear the voice of his commanding officer still, as calm and smirking as ever, whispering into his ear, "_Edward, do you want this? Do you like having my hands wrapped around you, stuck inside you. I bet Im doing this better than you ever could on your own._" Then a more ghoulish smile, "_I own you now, you know that right? If this isn't complete possession and control I don't know what is..._"

The boy let out a slightly more frantic sound then, a whimper that made it through his now clenched teeth easily. His hand was moving faster then, his breath ragged, his automail fingers wiggling and pumping inside of him to some uneven maniacal rhythm. The man in his mind was pressing against him now, pushing his body against the wall more firmly, he could almost feel the skin pressed on skin. He could feel it coming close then, and he saw the man lean forward again, lips back almost touching the shell of his ear. "_Edward, I want to hear you say it, I want to hear you say my name._" And suddenly his lips were open and the cry tumbled out, sudden and clear an louder than he had meant it to.

"Roy."

Then his knees revolted against his control, and he slid down the still cool tile wall, shifting to lean against it, hard porcelain beneath him now, breath coming unevenly still, body shaking slightly from the aftershocks. He let his eyes close, and sat on the floor there until the water ran cold above him.


End file.
